Often a store has a sign with the warning, "You break it, you bought it." This is to keep people from carelessly handling the merchandise.
I'm thinking of another sign, which should be posted all through my house. "If it's broken, I boug

Often a store has a sign with the warning, "You break it, you bought
it." This is to keep people from carelessly handling the merchandise.
I'm thinking of another sign, which should be posted all through my
house. "If it's broken, I bought it." This is not to say everything in
my house is broken, but to point out that everything has a breaking
point. And, it's not to say I can't fix anything. I just can't fix
anything that is broken.
A case in point; my easy chair.
A man's easy chair, especially mine, is control central of his world. My
easy chair is so situated that I can easily access my entire world.
Whoever invented the easy chair must have been a genius, at least in my
book.
To the left of my easy chair is a small stand with a light. On this
stand rest various works in progress. I will admit some are in slow
progress, but that's the way I like it. I can reach into this pile,
pull out some work and spend a little time on it. Also on this stand is
a well-stocked container of pens and pencils.
Someone in our house, and I will not mention any names, has suggested
getting rid of this pile. There are times, and this is one of them, I
do not pay attention to certain suggestions.
To the right of my easy chair are various items. I have the telephone,
the remote control and a variety of reference books, all within easy
reach.
At the foot of my easy chair leans a small notebook computer.
As you can see, my easy chair pulls my world together in a harmony of
delightful reach-ability.
Recently, a situation developed with my easy chair. Last week as I sat
in it, working on my computer, catching up with some work projects, I
heard a funny sound.
B-O-I-N-G!
I could not place the sound, so I ignored it. It's the manly thing to
do. Whenever something happens I don't understand, I resort to the old
ignoring routine. Sometimes it's the only thing that really works. Then
I heard the sound again.
B-O-I-N-G!
This time the sound was much louder but before I could really do
anything about it, I heard the sound for the third time.
B-O-I-N-G!
Suddenly, my easy chair quivered. Then everything collapsed, and as I
went free- falling, my whole life passed before my eyes. Fortunately,
as it turned out, it was not my life but everything on my stand flipped
in the air and came showering down on top of me. Papers, books, the
remote control and millions of pens and pencils smothered me in a heap
of confusion.
For a brief moment, I did not know what happened, or where I was.
The only redeeming aspect of this incident was the simple fact that the
Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage was not home at the time. I say
"simple fact," but the truth of the matter is it is much more
complicated.
My first job was to extricate myself from the mess. Secondly, I had to
pick up everything before my wife got home.
As it turned out, that was the easier part of my job. The most
difficult, and I admit it, was trying to fix my easy chair. It turned
out to be broken in places that completely and absolutely confounded
me.
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